One time I was dared to try and get a girls number by talking about how I work at McDonalds and one day wanna be a manager
needless to say, it DIDNT AFFECT ANYTHING BEING SHE WASN’T A JUDGEMENTAL CUNT LIKE THE REST OF SOCIETY
are u ok
i could use a hug
repeat after me friends:
- vaginas are self-cleaning
- there is no such thing as a dirty vagina
- unless you have an infection
- in which case your vagina still isn’t dirty but you should really go see a doctor
- but yeah
- vaginas aren’t “clean” or “dirty” they’re self-cleaning acidic muscular tracts
- so fuck off
and to quote the vagina monologues, “dont believe him when he tells you it smells like rose petals when it’s supposed to smell like pussy”
Me this morning
- Me: *just casually scrolling through Instagram while eating breakfast*
- Me: *sees Jack mention something about spending 7 months with PTV*
- Me: oh, are they touring or something?
- Me: *scrolls more and sees tour post* wait... WHAT
- Me: *watches announcement video* OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OHMYFUCKINGGOD
- Me: *punches wall*
- Me: SLEEPING WITH SIRENS AND PIERCE THE VEIL ARE TOURING TOGETHER
- Me: *jumps onto table*
- Me: THEY'RE COMING TO WHERE I LIVE
- Me: *back flips off table* WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE
- Me: *cartwheels out window*
- Guy on train: I'd fuck you if you didn't have so many tattoos.
- Me: *turns up music*
- Guy: I said I'd fuck you if you didn't have so many tattoos!
- Me: *takes off headphones* Leave. Me. Alone.
- Guy: Why the fuck do you have so many tattoos?
- Guy: Are you fucking deaf as well as a piece of trash?
- Lady by door: Hey. Leave her alone.
- Guy: Are you her trash girlfriend? Fucking dykes, all tattooed like fucking men. Disgusting waste of pussy.
- Lady: *moves forward, carefully moves jacket so only I can see the badge on her belt* Are you okay?
- Me: Fine. Just wish he'd go away.
- Lady cop: I can make that happen.
- Guy: Oh, yeah, bitch? Who the fuck are you? I'll kill you!
- Lady cop: And that's what I was waiting for. *grabs guy, holds him against the door* Harassing women on the train was enough, but you just threatened a cop. You're battin' a thousand tonight.
- Entire train: *applauds*
10 Honest Thoughts on Being Loved by a Skinny Boy
By Rachel Wiley
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says ‘No, you are beautiful.’
I wonder why I cannot be both.
He kisses me
My college theater professor once told me
that despite my talent,
I would never be cast as a romantic lead.
We do plays that involve singing animals
and children with the ability to fly,
but apparently no one
has enough willing suspension of disbelief
to go with anyone loving a fat girl.
I daydream regularly
about fucking my boyfriend vigorously on his front lawn.
On the mornings I do not feel pretty,
while he is still asleep,
I sit on the floor and check the pockets of his skinny jeans for motive,
for a punchline,
for other girls’ phone numbers.
When we hold hands in public,
I wonder if he notices the looks —
like he is handling a parade balloon on a crowded sidewalk;
if he notices that my hands are now made of rope.
Dear Cosmo: Fuck you.
I will not take sex tips from you
on how to please a man you think I do not deserve.
He tells me he loves me with the lights on.
I can cup his hip bone in my hand,
feel his ribs without pressing very hard at all.
He does not believe me when I tell him he is beautiful.
Sometimes I fear the day he does will be the day he leaves.
The cute hipster girl at the coffee shop
assumes we are just friends
and flirts over the counter.
I spend the next two weeks
mentally replacing myself with her
in all of our photographs.
When I admit this to him
we spend the evening taking new photos together.
He will not let me delete a single one of them.
The phrase “Big girls need love too” can die in a fire.
Fucking me does not require an asterisk.
Loving me is not a fetish.
Finding me beautiful is not a novelty.
I am not a fucking novelty.
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says, ‘No. You are so much more’,
and kisses me
Love this piece! Reminds me of my own thoughts and fears about dating as a fat girl, and makes me want to say ‘fuck you’ to all those fears!
it’s the 8th month
I cracked the code
October is the 10th month though
It was originally the 8th month but then Julius fucking Caesar decided to add in July and August after himself and his nephew Augustus
we should totally just stab caesar